


Haunted by the Past

by Paxpaganus



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:36:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paxpaganus/pseuds/Paxpaganus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 32 years, Andrew Bond has returned. Seeking revenge on his now-adult son, for the patricide James attempted at the age of 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunted by the Past

**Author's Note:**

> As the co-author of this work, I'd like to thank "007-reporting" for not only writing with me, but giving me permission to write this RP story into a full-blown fic. :)
> 
> Her awesome blog can be found here: http://007-reporting.tumblr.com
> 
> Later chapters include:  
> Implied domestic violence, manslaughter, and patricide. As well as 'Moffat-level' Feels.

  
****

CHAPTER 1

It was dreary as Bond looked out the window of his sparse London flat. Though spring was always dreary with what seemed like near-constant rain. Sipping his coffee, he set the mug down on his desk, as he checked his email from the mobile phone in his hands. Though it was a rare day off for the Double-Oh agent, he still made a point to check in on things just in case. Above him, a man long thought dead sat, waiting and biding his time. Andrew Bond idly watched the rain fall outside while sitting at a desk. He’d been biding his time for years.

Watching…waiting…planning, everything down to the smallest detail, even leaving and returning to this very flat with the timing to avoid his son. It had taken an exorbitant amount of time, energy, and money to do so; but soon his carefully laid plan would come to fruition.

Leaning forward, he began to type on the laptop in front of him, sending his plan in motion.

 

__-EarlofSkyfall- I’ve found you James. I know where you are my son.__

Seeing the email, Bond did a double-take as his blood ran cold and the color drained from his face. As his training screamed warning bells into his head, he quickly moved away from windows and doors, to the center of his flat where he could still see - yet had cover. It was an archway, just prior to the halls that lead to his bedroom and the loo. It was precisely for this reason, why he’d put the coat rack here, that held the shoulder-holster of his Walther PPK pistol when he wasn’t on duty. Quickly, he slipped the holster on, buckling it securely, before checking the capacity of the magazine. Full clip, as always, ready at a moments notice. Instead of replying to the email, he called the secure line into MI-6 Q-Branch. Hoping to reach the Quartermaster quickly.

Andrew sat, waiting for awhile. When a response didn’t seem to be forthcoming, he frowned darkly at the laptop and looked to the loaded pistol sitting on his desk. Grabbing it while standing he moved to the center of his own flat looking down and cocking his head in contemplation at the floor beneath his feet. After a moment he unloaded five bullets where the floor was the most thin, and the most likely to go through into the flat below. Then, shifting quickly to another part of the room where another computer sat, his gaze watched the monitor intently. On the screen, there was a camera feed that was connected to Bond’s flat. He’d had to be careful, but he’d managed to circumvent MI-6’s own surveillance. It was only one camera, but it was a set of eyes.

“007?” Q sounded confused as he answered the call. “You’re off-duty between missions. Why are you calling me?”

“This isn’t a social call Q!” Bond hissed quietly into the phone, holding the Walther ready, and glancing to the windows of the living room. “I’ve got a situation…I need to you track an email. Someone is-“ His words were cut short as a series of barking gunshots were heard from above, sending splinters of sheet rock and drywall, as well as bullets raining down and into the floor.

“Shit!” Cursing as a bullet lodged into his left bicep, Bond dropped the phone. Gripping the Walther with two hands, he moved back a few paces to the doorway of the loo, eyes locked on the ceiling, ears listening for any sound to give away the location of his attacker.

Down the hall, Q’s voice was heard faintly through the speaker of the dropped phone. “007? Were those gunshots?! What’s going on? Report!” Bond ignored it, not wanting to give his position away as the Quartermaster spoke again. “I’m sending a team your way, hold position.” Scowling, James mentally swore at the leader of Q-Branch and vowed to give him a piece of his mind later, if he survived.

Andrew’s eyes gleamed in silent excitement once the camera picked up the cursing from James’ lips in the flat below. One of the shots had found their mark. He grabbed and holstered a loaded 9mm glock, before pocketing hand grenades and heading through the door and down the stairwell. Pausing, he peered out a window to see the mobilized unit from MI6 making their way up the stairs to aid 007.

Wonderful.

He shrugged while pulling the pins out of two grenades and threw them down the stairs once he saw one of the men heading up. Screams of the fallen and injured agents echoed through the halls as the explosions went off. Reaching the door of the flat, he shot the wood around the handle, weakening it before kicking the door in.

“Alright…we can do this the easy or hard way, James…” he murmured, looking around, holding the pistol ready as he made his way through the relatively empty living space. Reaching the hallway, he stepped over the phone and saw the blood on the floor. Smiling lightly, he looked up. “Come out; come out, where ever you are…”


End file.
